


I'll Be Home

by ghostystarr



Series: Much Ado About Miya [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (blows kiss to the stars) for suna rintarou, Christmas, Established Relationship, Families of Choice, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, Miya Four, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28290303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostystarr/pseuds/ghostystarr
Summary: Suna's holiday forecast looks lonely and bleak. Until he gets a gift from his family.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: Much Ado About Miya [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001193
Comments: 43
Kudos: 337
Collections: SunaOsa





	I'll Be Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pancake_surprise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pancake_surprise/gifts).



> To the most surprised pancake I know, and my best friend. Merry Christmas, Regan! Did you think I had already given you all your gifts?? :p Here's some winter-themed Miya Four with a particular emphasis on Sunarin and his annoying little family that he loves so dearly.

The holiday season arrives faster than Suna is prepared for. Between volleyball and regular responsibilities, he’s too busy for plans or celebrations or even to grab groceries and therefore his Christmas dinner is reduced to a sad array of the weeks’ accumulated leftovers. His chopsticks circle around a half-heated dumpling as he scrolls mindlessly through Instagram.

Kita seems to be enjoying a quiet night with his grandmother and Aran. Gin is on a trip north with his family. Atsumu posts a flood of images of his matching red and green MSBY sweaters with Kiyoomi, laughing at his grumpy pout as Atsumu dangles mistletoe over his head. Komori must’ve visited earlier as he even has a few pics of Kiyoomi’s custom sweater. But one person has been quiet all day.

Osamu hadn’t mentioned his plans this year, which was unusual, as he usually is the first one to get them all together for a warm meal and a good conversation. Suna assumes he’s with Atsumu and, by extension, Kiyoomi. The only mention of any plans came from their phone call the night before. “They’re probably just gonna make me cook,” Osamu said, trying and failing to sound disappointed. “Then maybe I’ll kick Atsumu’s ass in MarioKart, who knows?”

“Pics if he rage quits,” Suna begged, and Osamu agreed with a warm laugh that went straight to Suna’s heart.

But there hasn’t been a single text or Snap all day. It’s nearing five o’clock. Surely, they’re all together right now. Maybe he should call. Or maybe he’d just be pushing his way into something he really has no place in. Not when he was the one who moved away. The three of them are happy. No need to bring them down with him.

He’s about to bite into his dumpling when there’s a firm knock at his door. It must be a neighbor; he didn’t buzz anyone into his apartment building. He’s tempted to ignore it when suddenly it sounds like six heavy hands start banging.

Suna’s dumpling falls to the floor as he jumps, blinking when the noise doesn’t let up. “Okay, okay,’ he calls and stands. Idly, he wonders if he’s about to get mugged. But, when he peers through the doorhole, he finds something much scarier waiting in the hallway.

He opens the door quickly, words stuck in his throat as he takes in Osamu, Kiyoomi, and Atsumu standing with bags in tow.

“Hey, Rin,” Osamu smiles, “sorry we’re late.”

“Yeah, hi, Merry Christmas,” Atsumu interjects sharply and worms his way inside. “Sorry, I gotta pee. Be right back.”

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. “I told you not to drink all of that hot chocolate on the train.”

Atsumu is already down the hall. Suna steps aside, stunned, as the other two come inside and immediately make themselves at home. Kiyoomi starts pulling wrapped gifts from his duffel and Osamu throws plastic shopping bags onto the table. “Jeez,” Osamu wrinkles his nose at the fallen dumpling, “impatient?”

“Huh?” Suna finally lets out. “How are you… What are you doing here?”

Osamu tilts his head to one side. “We’re having dinner.”

“But… why?”

Kiyoomi gives him a confused look and holds up a present. “It’s Christmas.”

“Yeah?”

“We planned it, remember? Like a month ago.”

Suna shakes his head. “Osamu, babe, this is the first I’m hearing about any of this. I think I’d remember agreeing to let _Atsumu_ into my apartment.”

Osamu frowns. “Oh. I think I forgot to tell ya.”

Kiyoomi snorts just as Atsumu returns to the living room with a stern look. “Sunarin,” Atsumu complains, “where are yer decorations? This place seriously just looks sad.”

Kiyoomi nudges him. “Osamu forgot to tell him we were coming.”

Atsumu redirects his judging look to his twin. “Ya forgot to tell yer own _boyfriend_ yer Christmas plans?”

Osamu just laughs. “Well, we’re here now! And we brought plenty to eat so ya can throw _this,”_ he raises Suna’s microwaved takeout, “where it belongs. The trash.”

Suna feels frozen as he watches Osamu tosses the styrofoam box into the garbage and Atsumu starts helping Kiyoomi unpack a whole barrage of items. Presents, movies, snacks, a Nintendo Switch, and a copy of MarioKart. Suna stares at the game for a long moment, wondering how a damn kids’ game is making him feel so light and jittery. Atsumu throws a bag of Swedish Fish at him. “Get ready,” he taunts, “because after dinner, I’m gonna kick yer ass on Rainbow Road.”

It clicks then, as Suna catches the candy with a small smile. He’s happy. Really happy. “Don’t worry,” Suna says back in a thick voice. “I’m sure Sakusa will still love you even after you lose. Again.”

Kiyoomi gives a teasing, unconvinced hum, and Atsumu gapes at the both of them. “Omi,” he whispers, “don’t listen to him. I don’t lose. Not at MarioKart.”

“I’m not sure I believe you,” Kiyoomi says flatly, but his lips twitch upwards as Atsumu sputters and waves around chocolates like the kid he still is at heart. Suna uses the distraction to slip into the kitchen, where Osamu is rummaging through his cupboards with a raised eyebrow.

Suna leans against the counter. “Looking for something?”

“Where’s the pan I brought over last time?” Osamu mutters. “It’s not where I left it.”

“Next cupboard over,” Suna directs, crossing his arms as Osamu hums and opens the correct door. “So, my boyfriend forgot to tell me he wanted to spend Christmas together?”

Osamu sets the pan onto his stove. He shrugs. “S’that such a big deal? I mean, isn’t it kinda implied that we would?”

It’s not. Not to Suna, who thinks and rethinks and overthinks until he’s forgotten what the original thought even was. He slides forward, keeping his hands tucked to his sides, until he can bump their feet together. “I didn’t buy any presents,” he mutters.

Osamu nods. “That’s fine. Tsumu and Kiyoomi bought enough for everyone. I swear, ever since they got engaged, they’re twice as annoyin’. Suddenly, it’s all, ‘Make sure ya go to bed early, Samu!’ and ‘Have ya tried this new fabric softener?’ Weirds me out.” He shudders. “Tsumu still sucks at MarioKart, though.”

Suna laughs. His arms reach out to curl around Osamu’s waist instead, lowering his forehead to hide his smile in his shoulder. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

“Really?”

Suna hears the burner click on. He clings to Osamu as he moves down the kitchen, shuffling with him as he gets out a cutting board and searches the bags for an onion. “I’m the odd one out,” he whispers.

Osamu’s knife stills above the onion. He twists in Suna’s hold to frown at him. “What d’ya mean by that?”

He sighs. “I live out of the way. It’s just logical that over the time the distance would - hmph.” Osamu shoves a celery stick into Suna’s mouth and Suna glares at him before spitting it out.

“Not us,” Osamu says firmly. Then nods towards the living room. “Not them either. Seriously, Rin, I’m not gonna make ya unpack all of that on Christmas. But.” He turns around fully to cup Suna’s cheek. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. If yer lonely, call me. If yer worried, ask me.” He smiles. “This family is yers, if ya want it.”

Suna’s fingers tangle into Osamu’s sweatshirt. It’s ridiculous, he thinks, to still feel the same as he did when he was in high school and first realized Miya Osamu’s soft smile and honest praise was something he wanted to see off the court, too. He still wants that. For the rest of his life. “Yeah,” he says, “okay.”

Osamu kisses him, sweet and quick, before pulling back and saying, “Now that that’s squared away, chicken or pork?”

“Pork,” he says. He lets Osamu cook, reluctantly stepping away as Atsumu lets out an indignant shout from the living room. “Guess I’ll entertain the in-laws,” he jokes, but he likes the way it sounds. “Don’t eat while you cook.”

Osamu already has a carrot in his mouth. “Uh-huh.”

When Suna rounds the corner, he crosses his arms at the sight of Miya Atsumu sprawled out on the floor. Swedish Fish are scattered everywhere. Sakusa Kiyoomi has his hands up, trying to look innocent, but it’s easy to see what happened. Atsumu has the uncanny ability to turn anyone into a child, and he knows Kiyoomi is not above wrestling his fiance for a bag of gummy candy. “Clean this up,” he says, “and set up the Switch. I’m kicking your ass now.”

Atsumu grins, sitting up and shaking Swedish Fish out of his hair. “Fine, but I’m warnin’ ya now. I’ve been waitin’ for this _all year.”_

“It’s true,” Kiyoomi says as he bends down and starts collecting the fallen candy. “He has a training regimen.”

“Omi, yer not supposed to tell him that!”

“But it’s embarrassing.”

Suna likes Kiyoomi. “Kiyoomi, how about an alliance? No items against each other.”

Kiyoomi nods. “Okay.”

Atsumu tugs on Kiyoomi’s arm. “What the fuck? We’re literally teammates. Why’re ya on his side?”

“He asked first. Sorry.” Kiyoomi leans down and kisses Atsumu’s pout right off his face. “I promise I won’t use the blue tortoiseshell on you.”

Kiyoomi does, in fact, use the blue tortoiseshell on Atsumu the first chance he gets. Suna laughs harder than he has in months as Atsumu curses them both, and dodges elbows and kicks as they play. Atsumu still ends up winning, much to their dismay. But, before he can gloat too much, Osamu yells at them to set the damn table, and all three of them do.

Dinner is mostly spent catching up, trading stories about their own chaotic teams.

“And then Bokkun,” Atsumu reaches for his drink, “broke the damn door to the bus. We had to drive all the way back home with no fuckin’ door. In November. Omi had to wear _two_ jackets!”

Kiyoomi shakes his head. “I still think he should’ve had to pay for a new one.”

“A new door?”

“A new bus.”

The conversation ebbs and flows until their plates are empty. Suna could doze off right there in his chair, eyelids drooping. He’s missed Osamu’s cooking. Almost as much as the man himself.

“Tsumu,” Osamu’s voice wakes him up a bit, “help me clear this.”

Surprisingly, Atsumu doesn’t argue. He just stands and points at Kiyoomi’s untouched slice of pork. Kiyoomi shakes his head, and Atsumu snatches it for himself before taking both their plates to the kitchen. Atsumu and Osamu start talking in a hushed tone before the sound of the sink drowns out the words.

Kiyoomi puts down his napkin. “So,” he starts awkwardly, “the national team tryouts are coming up.”

“Yeah.”

Kiyoomi drums his fingers on his lap then shrugs. “Are you going to try for it?”

Suna shrugs back. “I don’t know.”

“You should,” he says. “You _could.”_

“That’s a lot of time away,” Suna reasons, and looks back to the kitchen. He hears the telltale sound of Osamu hitting Atsumu with a dish towel. “I mean, we’re talking about the _Olympics.”_

“That will be in Tokyo,” Kiyoomi adds. “Tsumu and I are going.” It’s not even a question for him - that they’ll make it. “I think both Miyas would want you there, too.”

Suna sips his wine. “It would be fun,” he relents. “I’ll think about it.” Kiyoomi nods, seeming satisfied with that answer. “Have you guys started planning?” Suna asks, changing the subject. “The wedding, I mean.”

“Oh.” Kiyoomi softens. “A bit. Atsumu says he wants to wait for the season to be over before we get too serious with the plans, though.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a menace, and he wants all the groomsmen’s opinions on every last petal and crumb. So he wants to wait until you’re back at Osamu’s for - and I quote - easy access.”

Suna isn’t sure why that is what makes it all feel real for him, but it is. That Suna is just inherently a part of something as important as their wedding. “He is a menace,” Suna agrees.

The Miya twins come back with wet shirts and soap suds in their hair. Neither Suna or Kiyoomi ask.

Kiyoomi stands. “Present time?”

Their expressions brighten immediately. “Hell yeah!” Atsumu cheers and jogs over to the pile on the floor. “Sunarin, open ours first. It’s perfect for ya.”

The perfect present turns out to be a Roomba, which makes Suna squint questioningly at Kiyoomi and Atsumu, who both look far too excited for his reaction. “A Roomba,” he deadpans, “thanks.”

They both raise their thumbs.

“Mine next,” Osamu says and reaches for a small black box.

It’s a key. Personalized with a grey fox printed on the end. Suna stares at it. And stares.

“It’s to my place,” Osamu explains needlessly. “Just wanted ya to have it. Yanno. For whenever.”

“What the fuck?” Atsumu protests. “Where’s my key to yer place?”

“Family only.”

“I’m yer _twin,_ ya jerk.”

“Thanks, Samu.” Suna reaches forward and Osamu falls into his arms at once, pressing kisses to his shoulder. “Love you.”

“I love ya, Rin,” Osamu answers, and Suna feels confident that that answer isn’t going to change.

“Can I plug in the Roomba?” Kiyoomi asks, already picking up the box. “I want to see how it does on this carpet.”

Suna snorts. “Go for it.”

Kiyoomi tears into the package like a child looking for toys while Atsumu pours out more wine. Suna smiles and leans into Osamu’s side, utterly content. Then his smile grows as he realizes that this is his future.

And it’s as bright as the Olympic gold metal that he suddenly thinks isn’t as out of reach as it seemed.

**Author's Note:**

> Wishing a happy, safe holidays to everyone!
> 
> Special thanks to Hannah, Eve, and Ion who beta'd this fic in my hour of need. The real heroes of this story. And thanks, of course, to Regan - who writes some [banger sunaosa fics.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pancake_surprise/pseuds/pancake_surprise)
> 
> Feel free to say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ghostystarr)!!


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